


This Feeling That Remains

by l_grace_b



Series: I Will Follow Where You Lead [1]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: EFA Fic Challenge 2019, F/F, Gen, stars hollow au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 18:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17833493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/l_grace_b/pseuds/l_grace_b
Summary: Maybe small towns aren't so bad after all.---EFA Challenge 2019Also known as the Gilmore Girls AU





	This Feeling That Remains

Nicole couldn't stop replaying the thirty second conversation that led her to move to a town she had never been to or even heard of.

 

_"You Smoke?"_

_"No."_

_"Drugs?"_

_"Nothing stronger than an aspirin for a cold."_

_"You drink?"_

_"On occasion."_

_"Hm. How long you stayin'?"_

_"A month?"_

_"…"_

_"Hello?"_

_"I'll have your room ready in a week. Be here at 12pm and the place is yours."_

 

She could hardly call it an apartment. At best, it was a spare-bedroom-turned-apartment located above the town's antique shop.

But it had electricity, heat, running water, and a roof.

In a place nobody knew her name.

Just like she wanted.

Today was the first time since arriving Nicole wasn't caught in a panic attack or a spiral of regret. She took it as a chance to venture out and furnish the place she now called home.

 

_Dish soap_

_Coffee creamer_

_Laundry detergent_

_Toothpaste_

 

The nearest grocery store outside of town was twenty miles down a windy, two-lane highway. Her other option was a small general store a block away from her apartment.

This wasn't the busy streets of Chicago, with her cozy apartment nestled in the international district, walking distance from ten different cuisines, her favorite bookshop, her office.

Nicole visited six of the seven continents. Cities of several million. Villages perched on the hillsides of South America. Ranch towns in the Rockies.

She'd never seen anything like this town.

Despite its name, everything about Ghost River was picturesque. Annoyingly so. Every maple tree the same size, with the same number of gold and orange leaves, ready to fall at the exact same time. Every building, townhouse, the white chapel tucked away down a side street was perfect, not a patch of paint missing, not a shingle out of place. A cool breeze rustled just enough to swirl loose leaves around one's feet or displace a few hairs.

This place was a living print by Currier and Ives.

At least this town was walkable.

Nicole avoided eye-contact with anyone she passed as she hurried down the street, a scarf wrapped around her neck for protection against the autumn afternoon breeze, her hands shoved in the pockets of her trench coat.

_Don't make a scene, Haught. Just get in, get out. Don't talk to anyone unless it's necessary._

The interior of Shorty's Market looked as if it hadn't changed since the day it opened. Old posters advertising bottles of milk and bread hung on the wall. A small produce cart stood against the back wall. A row of wood barrels containing candies in a dozen flavors and colors were lined up under the front window. One particular barrel caught Nicole's eye.

"No way…" Nicole walked over and picked up a bag of red hard candies. "I haven't had these since I was a kid…"

"Can I help you with something?"

The voice startled Nicole; she almost dropped her bag of candy.

The voice belonged to a women with short gray hair who stood at the check stand, holding a clipboard. She wore a dark green apron, "Shorty's Market" written in gold lettering across the front.

"Just stopping in for a few things," Nicole called back casually, holding up the bag of candy.

"M'kay. Just holler if you need anything." The woman returned to scribbling away on her clipboard. "And sorry for startlin' you. And the door. It likes to stick to the frame."

"Noted." Nicole grabbed a basket from the stack in front of the candy barrels, and tossed the candy into the basket.

She wandered up and down the aisles, easily collecting everything on her list.

 

_Dish soap_

_Coffee creamer_

_Laundry detergent_

 

She rounded the corner of one of the last aisles just as she heard a loud crack and a dull clanking of metal against wood, followed by a high-pitched shriek.

Halfway down the aisle, a shelf had snapped off its brace, sending cans of carrots toppling to the floor. A girl was stuck holding up the broken end of the shelf, letting out a short string of curse words under her breath.

"Need a hand?" Nicole called down the aisle.

"No, it's okay. I've got it," replied the girl, without even looking Nicole's way. At that moment, the other side of the shelf slipped off its brace, sending yet more cans cascading to the floor, leaving the girl straining to hold up the wooden shelf. A can rolled toward Nicole and bumped against her shoe.

The girl turned to Nicole, flyaway strands of her long, brown hair framing her face.

"Okay, maybe I do need some help."

Nicole picked up the loose can at her feet and walked over to help the girl reset the shelf. She gathered loose cans, handing them to the girl to set them back on the shelf.

"Thanks for helping me."

"No prob--"

"Oh my God, Waverly!"

A man--no older than mid-twenties, if Nicole could've guessed--skidded to a stop at the opposite end of the aisle, and marched over to them. "Everything okay over here? Are you alright? You get hurt?" he placed his hands on the girl's shoulders and quickly looked over her small frame.

"I'm fine," the girl--Waverly--argued, squirming out from the man's embrace.

"Oh, thank goodness." He placed a hand dramatically against his chest. He looked at Nicole. "And I guess I have you to thank for making sure Waverly was alright?"

"Actually, she didn't even really need my help at all. My contribution was rescuing one lowly can from a life of wasting away under the shelf."

"Well, without you here, I'm sure things could've been _much_ worse." He looked at the shelf. "Do you need any help? You know I'm great at--"

"You know, Champ, I think we're just fine," Waverly pat him on the shoulder, gently guiding him back down the aisle.

"Champ! I need you out back unloading the truck!" Nicole recognized the voice as being from the kind woman at the register--this time her tone more serious and assertive.

Champ began to saunter backwards away from them. "Duty calls, ladies. Got a big shipment of potatoes from Jett's Farm. Don't be afraid to call for help if you need anything, okay? Always here to help." He flexed both of his arms and winked at them. He then turned and scampered off.

Nicole stood in the aisle, reeling in the exchange she just witnessed.

"What just happened?"

It's Waverly's voice that brings her back to reality. "Sorry. That was Champ."

Nicole blinked. "He seems nice," she deadpanned.

"He's harmless." Waverly waved a hand dismissively. She turned back to straightening the cans on the shelf.

"Ha!" Nicole burst out involuntarily, quickly slapping a hand to her mouth. She chanced a sideways glance at Waverly. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Really."

"Boyfriend?" Nicole grimaced.

"I don't think he has one, no."

"I meant--"

"I know," Waverly laughs. "No, he's not my boyfriend. We dated in high school. He just thinks he is still in high school."

Nicole craned her neck to see over the shelves. "He's not being a creep, is he?"

"He's fine. I promise. I can take care of myself, remember?"

Nicole's cheeks warmed and she looked at her feet. "Right. Well. Like you said, looks like you have everything here under control. I should go."

"Are you ready to check out? I can ring you up," Waverly offered. "My family owns this place, and I've worked here since I could count money."

Nicole looked in her basket, running through her list in her head. "Yeah, I guess I'm finished here."

Waverly turned on her heel, her hair swishing over her shoulder. Nicole followed quickly in her stead.

The woman from before was gone, leaving Waverly and Nicole alone at the register. Nicole set her basket on the counter. Waverly unloaded the basket and began punching buttons on an old brass register. She held up the sack of cinnamon candies. "These are my favorite."

"I haven't had them since I was a kid," said Nicole. "I didn't think anyone made them anymore."

"Shorty always keeps them in stock just for me. He'll be happy to know somebody else is actually buying them."

"So...Is Shorty your uncle? Is there actually a Shorty behind Shorty's Market?" Nicole laughed.

"Yes and no. Shorty and my uncle Curtis have been friends since they were kids. They bought this grocery store thirty years ago when the original owner died."

"So why's it named Shorty's?"

"They decided it as any two civilized best-friends-slash-business-men would--whoever could down the most shots of whiskey got to name the store."

"So Shorty won?"

Waverly shook her head. "My uncle Curtis won. Named the store after his best friend."

"That's…oddly sweet."

"That's Curtis for you." Waverly smiled. She started to pack Nicole's groceries into a canvas bag. "You just passing by for the day?"

Nicole eyed her bag. "Odd assortment of items, don't you think?"

Waverly pursed her lips. Nicole saw a flush of red in Waverly's cheeks.

"Sorry. It's a habit. Everyone who comes in here is either a tourist or a local." Waverly squinted her eyes at Nicole. "And I've been trying this whole time to figure out which one you are."

"I guess I'm both. I just moved here. Still putting my life together. Obviously." Nicole gestured to her groceries.

Waverly extended her hand over the counter. "Well. Welcome to Ghost River. I'm Waverly."

Nicole took her hand. "Nicole." She squeezed it gently before letting go. Nicole dropped her hand to her side, her fingers tingling.

Waverly reached into the basket for the last item. She held up a can. "Carrots?'

Nicole's cheeks burned again. "Yeah. I actually needed a can. I'm making soup tonight," she lied, rubbing the back of her neck.

 

_Soup? Smooth one, Nicole._

 

Nicole fished her wallet out of her coat pocket. She and Waverly exchanged cash and change in a palpable silence. Nicole grabbed her canvas tote bag and turned toward the door. "I guess I'll be seeing you around, then. Good luck with that shelf." As she reached for the doorknob, Waverly called after her.

"If you don't have anywhere to be…I can show you around town."

Nicole turned away from the door. "What, you the town's official tour guide?" she laughed.

"Kind of?" Waverly smiled sheepishly.

"Oh. You're serious."

"Yeah." Waverly bit her lip. "I sometimes work in the archives at city hall. Plus I've lived here my whole life."

Nicole looked at Waverly, this eager person she didn't know ten minutes ago, wanting to take her on some personalized tour of Ghost River.

 

_Get in, get out. No small town small-talk._

_Go get some fresh air. It'll do you good._

 

Nicole sighed. "Sure."

"Great!" Waverly rounded the counter and breezed past Nicole, practically bouncing out of the store, calling a hasty good-bye to Gus.

Nicole followed, brushing past the door as it closed behind her.

Waverly was nearly halfway up the block when Nicole caught sight of her.

"Hold on." Nicole called, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk in front of Shorty's.

Waverly stopped and backtracked to Nicole. "Sorry. Thought you were right behind me. What's up?" she asked.

Nicole dug around in her bag and pulled out the sack of candy. She took a bright red candy out and held it in her palm. "I really hope these are as good as I remember them."

"And if they aren't?"

Nicole looked down at the candy again.

 

_Just another disappointment in my life._

 

"Then it's a good thing I know someone who does like them." She tossed the candy in her mouth. Nicole closed her eyes and tilted her head back as her mouth was coated in warm, cinnamon syrup.

"Same as you remember?"

"Even better," Nicole hums. She offered the bag out to Waverly.

"I'm okay, thanks." Waverly held up her hand. "You still reminiscing in your childhood, or are you ready to see the town?"

Nicole opened her eyes, a content smile spreading across her face. She nodded. "I'm ready."

"Okay." Waverly spread her arms out. "Welcome to Ghost River." She resumed walking in the same direction as before, this time with Nicole following.

"So. First question of the tour…How did you, Nicole…" Waverly paused.

"Haught," Nicole answered.

"Yeah, I know those cinnamon drops have a little kick that can sneak up on you."

"No," Nicole laughed. "Haught. My last name is 'Haught'. With a u-g-h."

"Oh," Waverly looked surprised. "Yeah. Of course." She cleared her throat, taking a few steps ahead of Nicole. "How did you, Nicole Haught, end up in a place like Ghost River?" she continued.

Nicole quickened her pace to catch up with Waverly. She adjusted the candy in her mouth before answering. "I'm a writer. I used to write for a travel magazine in Chicago."

"But?"

"But what?"

"Buuuuut," Waverly implored, "You said you used to write. What happened?"

Nicole's stomach flipped. The candy had dissolved completely, the sweet and spicy flavor lingering in her mouth, but without something to distract her. She inhaled, and recited the response swirling in her head for the last few days. "I wasn't really happy with what I was doing. I'm just doing some freelance stuff right now."

"Okay…" Waverly trailed off, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Hey, Waverly!"

The two of them stopped and spun around. Across the street, a few people were stringing a canvas banner between two lampposts across the street.

"This look straight enough?" one of them called to Waverly.

Waverly squinted her eyes, then gave a thumbs up. "Looks great, Levi!"

"Is this something you do every year?" Nicole asked, changing the subject of their conversation She pointed up to the banner, which announced the date of Ghost River's upcoming harvest festival.

"Every year since 1791," Waverly confirmed.

"Is it any good?"

"It's fun. The town goes all-out for it. Kids dance and it's endearing. Somebody always cheats in the pie-eating contest. Keeps the town drama going until the next festival."

Nicole scanned the square, noting large stacks of hay bales and pumpkins of various shapes and states of carving lining the sidewalk.

Waverly nudged Nicole in the side. "If you're still in town then, you should come."

"I'm only here for a few weeks," Nicole admitted hastily.

"Oh. Well. Maybe next year, now that you know about it."

"Sure."

As they continued to walk, Waverly prattled on about specific buildings and businesses, about the feud that led to the barber shop to move across the street from the hardware store.

"You sure know a lot about this place," Nicole mused.

Waverly shrugged. "It's an interesting town. Like, did you know we were the first town in the province to make the transition to petrol lamplights? Or how, thanks to my uncle Curtis's family, our town is mostly known for its tomatoes?"

Nicole raised her eyebrows bemusedly.

Waverly wrung her hands, the first time Nicole noticed the confidence falter. "I've always loved history," Waverly continued quietly, reverently. "I love learning about all the pieces that work together to make this…grand human story."

"That's…really cool."

Waverly smiled, holding her head a little higher as she continued on. Waverly pointed out a small bookshop, a record store, a hardware store. A mechanic. They passed by an old barn fashioned into what appeared to be a dance studio. The side door was open, and they see a woman--slightly older than Nicole--barking orders at a gaggle of six-year-olds dressed like maple trees.

"Mercedes Gardner." Waverly caught Nicole looking in the direction of the barn. "Family's been in this town for decades. She's one of those people who knows everybody's business, even before they know it.

"That's…intense," said Nicole, unable to look away from the barn.

"Yeah, but when the chips are down, she'd kill a man for you."

At that moment, Mercedes glanced away from her dancers. She caught sight of Nicole and Waverly, and, without missing a beat, winked at the both of them, blew a kiss to Waverly, then immediately returned to her class.

Nicole blinked. "I think I believe you."

They rounded the corner at the end of the block, and suddenly were across the street from the antique shop--a Victorian-style house with a wrap-around porch, a wooden sign, reading Nedley's Antiques and Artifacts in silver lettering, hanging from the awning. The lights inside were already dark.

For a moment, the breeze stopped, and everything stilled. The bustle of activity from earlier quieted. Streetlights--still wrought-iron, probably original--flickered on around them, adding to the soft, golden glow of the sunset.

"Home, sweet home," Nicole huffed.

"So _you're_ the one who's renting Nedley's apartment."

Nicole raised an eyebrow at Waverly. "Is that…bad?"

"No! Nedley's a really good guy. Serves on the town council. President of the Ghost River Historical Society. He's the one who restored the registers at Shorty's. I heard him mumbling about it last week when he came into Shorty's for ginger ale and wood polish. He's been trying to rent that apartment for a long time."

Nicole eyed the house warily. "It's not, like, haunted or has a termite problem or…"

"No," Waverly shook her head. "People don't really come through town a lot and, you know, _stay_. They either pass through on a weekend or have lived here for a hundred years."

 

_What if they're neither? What if they just don't belong anywhere?_

 

Nicole looked around her, watching shops up and down the street change their "Open" signs to "Closed". "Have we really walked all the way around town?"

"You sound disappointed," said Waverly.

 _Because now it means_ you _get to go home and talk about your day and_ I _get to go back to an apartment that doesn't even have internet and sit up all night thinking about how stupid of a decision coming to this town was._ Her chest tightened.

"Here. Sit." Waverly gestured to a bench behind them--there seemed to be one on every block. She sat on one end, leaving enough room for Nicole to sit on the opposite end.

"I just…thought you had more things you wanted to show me," said Nicole quietly. She sat down, her bag of groceries resting at her feet. She stared at the ground.

"Oh, I do! There's so many more things in this town I want to show you. But Ghost River kind of rolls up the sidewalks after six o'clock. It looks better in the daylight."

"Most things do."

Waverly leaned back on the bench. "Still, I think you got the gist of it. Just wait until you meet everybody."

"Everybody?"

"Yeah, there's _tons_ of people you need to meet. You already met Gus and Nedley, obviously, but you haven't met Shorty or my uncle Curtis or my sister, Wynonna, or Rosita or Jeremy or Doc or…"

Nicole let her ramble on a list of people…people who had their place in this town. A place Nicole had no business being in anyway.

Her stomach lurched again. She stood up quickly. "I should go. I…have to get some work done. Deadlines and whatnot." Nicole started to cross the street.

She didn't hear Waverly's response because, as Nicole stepped off the curb, a church bell rang. Nicole jumped, dropping her grocery bag. Its contents tumbled into the street.

Nicole, blushing hard, crouched down to gather her things, none of which had managed to scatter too far away from her.

 

_Laundry detergent_

_Coffee creamer_

_Dish soap_

 

Another pair of shoes appeared in front of her, and soon she sees Waverly, crouched down in front of her, trying to catch her eye.

"Sorry. Father Carlo's Six o'clock service. One of those things you get used to." Waverly handed Nicole the can of carrots. "Here. Fitting end to our tour, huh?"

"So we're even now?" Nicole smiled, taking the can from Waverly. Their fingers brushed and maybe it was the cool breeze, and the leaves swirling around their feet, but Nicole felt a shiver, the skin on her arms prickling.

"Thanks for showing me around town." Nicole stood up slowly.

Waverly stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jean jacket. "Any time. And thanks for helping with the shelf, really. I keep telling Shorty to fix that damn thing." Waverly bent down and picked up one last item. "Almost forgot these." She held out the bag of cinnamon candies to Nicole.

"Thanks." Nicole took the bag, but held it out to Waverly. "Want one for the road?"

The corner of Waverly's mouth quirked upward, a mischievous look flashing in her eyes. "Sure. Why not." Nicole shook the bag until a few candies land in Waverly's open hand. Nicole popped another candy in her mouth.

"Still your favorite?"

Waverly nodded. The breeze picked up again, encircling them.

"I'm glad. " Nicole brushed her hair out of her face and turned back toward the front gate of the antique shop.

"I guess I'll see you around." Waverly's voiced carried through the breeze. When Nicole reached the gate, she stopped and turned around. Waverly was standing by the park bench across the street.

"Yeah," Nicole replied. "I guess I will."

"One of the perks of living in a small town," Waverly smiled. "Goodnight, Nicole." She gave Nicole a small wave before walking back into town.

"Goodnight. Waverly." As the words left her mouth, her chest felt warm, as did her cheeks. Nicole leaned against the gate, watching until Waverly turned the corner out of sight. Another gust of the evening breeze reminded her to actually go inside.

She fished her keys out of her coat pocket and let herself into the shop. Once inside, she leaned against the door, her head thumping against the glass paneling.

Her mind buzzed, her pulse raced. She felt more awake than she had in a week.

 _It's just a girl,_ Nicole chided herself. _Just a super friendly local._

_So why did she have the urge to tell this girl the whole story? Not just the rehearsed story that she gave everyone else--the flight attendant, the taxi driver, the barista at her old coffee shop in Chicago, but the story about how, yes, she used to be a writer for a magazine and it was her dream job, but things got complicated and she wanted to get away from there as quickly and quietly as possible, so she--non-soberly--responded to an online ad for a one-bedroom loft in a town halfway across the continent?_

_That "doing freelance work" was her way of saying "unemployed"?_

_That she was terrified of being alone here? That she was terrified of never writing again?_

 

"That you, Haught? If it isn't, I'm a black belt in jiu jitsu." The gruff voice brought Nicole back to reality.

"It's just me, Mr. Nedley," Nicole called back. The shop was completely dark, but a soft light escaped from a back room.

"Mr. Nedley? I said it's just me, Nicole." Nicole waited a few moments for any response that indicated she wasn't about to be arm-locked by her curmudgeonly landlord. None came.

Nicole maneuvered around the old chairs, stained glass lamps, grandfather clocks and a wooden rocking horse, until she reached the staircase up to her apartment.

Every stair creaked as she climbed. The door knob stuck. Nicole shoved against the door, nearly falling into her apartment. She flicked the lights on--illuminating a small kitchen and sitting room. She set her bags on her scrubbed kitchen table and unpacked.

 

_Laundry detergent_

_Dish soap_

_Coffee creamer_

_Can of carrots_

_Cinnamon candies_

 

Holding the bag of candy, a smile spread across Nicole's face, her cheeks once again feeling warm.

Maybe this town would be okay.

She set the candies on the table and finished unpacking her bag.

"Shoot," Nicole exclaimed as she reached the bottom of her grocery bag

 

She forgot toothpaste.

**Author's Note:**

> So...I wrote an AU?
> 
> Yep. That happened.
> 
> Thanks to the spectacular folks over at EFA for hosting the challenge. This got me to write quite a bit out of my comfort zone.
> 
> Comments and kudos, as always, are loved and appreciated.
> 
> Come say hi over on Twitter (@TeachEarp_) of Tumblr (@emeraldcitynerdfighter)


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